Diaphanous
by FloatingBubbles
Summary: Definition: Of such fine texture as to be transparent or translucent; characterized by delicacy of form; vague or insubstantial. For example, a certain, rather revealing type of nightgown called a negligee. AmiZoi, part 2 in the "Awkward" trilogy.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I have no claim on anything Sailor Moon at all, so don't sue. Please. It'd be ridiculously inconvenient.

Dedication: To all those people who, in their reviews of _Awkward_, asked for a sequel. Because, you see, my first response was "No! I have no inspiration for what to write for a sequel!", but then the idea kind of worked its way into my head, and my imagination made me eat my words, because it began to conjure up all sorts of things to put into the aforementioned sequel. So, without you, _Diaphanous_ would never have been born.

A/N: This story is pretty darn long, and I, for one, don't like to read ridiculously long chapters. Therefore, I'm splitting it into two parts. Here's the first one.

By the way, all the notifications at the beginning of _Awkward_ apply here.

And, on that note, you _should_ probably read _Awkward_ before you read this story. I tried to make it possible for it to stand alone, but I'm under the distinct impression that I failed on that account.

Without further ado, the story:

* * *

**Diaphanous **

Zachary Tanzan would not hesitate to say that he, himself, was one of the most intelligent people he knew. It was a point of pride, actually. Kevin was serious, Jason was fun, Nick was perceptive and he, Zach, was intelligent.

He fed this intelligence by reading many, many books. His friends often made disparaging comments about how he went through books so quickly, sometimes reading multiple titles in one day. All that reading had at least one positive effect (though it was not the only one, he would insist): Zachary had a fantastic vocabulary.

This did not mean, however, that he did not occasionally come upon words he didn't know. Now was one of those times.

At this point, he had a number of options: he _could_ look up this elusive word in the dictionary, or, with an even faster solution, on the internet. But that that would mean he would have to move (and he was feeling both very comfortable and very lazy). In fact, the only device within reach that could possibly be of use within was a phone, which was on the table beside him.

That didn't help much, either, because there was no one he could call with whom he felt alright with demonstrating any sign of inferior intelligence to. At that, there were only three people in the world with whom he felt confident enough in his intellect to ask.

However, just before he got the chance to do the asking, all three of them marched into his room without prompting.

Sometimes, Zach wondered if he had been a magician in a past life.

Or a superhero.

Yeah. A superhero.

***

The three men stood before his bed in a row, looking rather formal. Kevin opened his mouth to speak, beginning to say—

"Does anyone know what 'diaphanous' means?" Zach asked, still staring down at the page.

Kevin closed his mouth soundlessly, never having gotten a chance to speak.

Nick spoke instead, having been distracted from whatever his former purpose was, "It sounds like some kind of disease. Whadda ya think, Jase?"

"Actually, it means 'enchanting' or 'enthralling'." Jason replied, sounding unusually knowledgeable. The other three looked at him in surprise, and he shrugged, "What? I read it in a poem." Jason had the distinction to be one those men who could willingly admit to reading poetry without losing any of his manliness. "Ever heard of context clues?"

Nick looked skeptical, "So you guessed? Are you sure, then?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay…"

"Guys, back on track here. We _do_ have a mission." Kevin reminded.

"Right."

"Right."

Only now, with his question answered, did Zach notice the serious, grave, this-is-an-intervention-don't-try-to-run type looks that his flat-mates were giving him.

Oh shit. Who knew what those looks could mean…

(Though something in his mind suggested that they _might_ mean that this was an intervention and he shouldn't try to run. Just a hunch, though.)

Kevin began to explain, "Zach, we have something we need to talk to you about."

"So I assumed."

Kevin gestured Nick to go on. Nick made a face at Kevin.

"You see, we've been noticing some…er…" the dark-haired man tried to put it delicately, "_different_ behavior coming from you, you see, and, uh…"

"No, actually. I don't see."

Finally, Jason bluntly picked up the thread of the discussion, leaning on the edge of the bed, "Okay, so _first_ you totally zone out for most of our little jaunt to the Blue Moon Café—"

"—_After _you collapse to the floor with dear Jason here and your drink—" Nick interjected.

"—Don't remind me—" Jason shot back.

"—that was two days ago—" added Kevin.

Jason turned back to Zach, "_Then_, you basically _force_ us to pull over at the hardware store without an explanation, to buy _paint_. After which you proceed to _completely rearrange _our room in order to _repaint_ the walls—not that I mind the change of colors, because I do rather like blue, butI _don't_ like having my entire room pulled apart by a delusional, long-haired twit with color indecision."

"Are you done yet?" Zach asked.

"No. Because now for the past _two days_ you've been sitting around, occasionally with this utterly dazed look on your face—"

"—and slightly less often a rather panicked one—" That was Nick.

Jason agreed, "—_and_ slightly less often a rather panicked one."

"Are you done _now_?"

"No!" Jason went on, "You've been eating copious amounts of chocolate, the reason for which I cannot even _fathom_, _and_ you've been doing crossword puzzles just about nonstop—"

"—and we know," Nick finished, "that you only do crossword puzzles when you're trying to avoid doing something you really think you should do."

There was silence.

Then:

"So…are you quite finished?"

"Yes." Jason finally admitted.

Zach shifted uncomfortably, "Well, what do you want me to say?"

Kevin, who had been doing the strong-and-silent routine, now spoke, "We'd _like_ you to give us an explanation, blondie."

"…Is there any use in telling you that there is no explanation?"

"None whatsoever." (Nick)

"Oh. Is there any use in telling you that I don't want to tell you?"

"Probably not." (Nick again)

"I don't want to tell you."

"I don't care." (Kevin)

"Hmph."

A beat.

"Well, are you going to tell us?" (Jason)

"Can you ask more specific questions? It's a long story, and I don't know where to start."

"What the hell are you avoiding so avidly?" (Nick)

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask that one."

Three pairs of eyes stared at him, and Zach realized that he really _did_ have to answer them. He also acknowledged that he didn't really know _how_ to lie to them. Which left him no choice.

"You see, there's this girl…who I really ought to call."

The three males at the end of the bed shared a look, letting out a collective sigh (they had been worried it would be something far worse) before Jason spoke for all of them: "Really, Zach, you should have just told us. I mean, we've all been in that situation before. I don't blame you for avoiding it. I mean, really annoying girls give _me_ their numbers all the time, and I have to worry about disappointing them, or hurting their feelings, or—"

"No, no, no, no." Zach shook his head vehemently, glancing nervously at the bedside table which held an open bar of chocolate and a very important scrap of napkin, "It's not like that. I like her. I do." He thought about it, "I _really_ like her. I just…you see…I don't know what to _say_." He stuffed a pillow over his face.

Kevin tentatively asked the frazzled blonde, "And how long have you been avoiding this?"

"Tmoo fais" Came a muffled voice.

"Repeat that?"

The billow was lifted briefly, "Two days."

Once again, the guys exchanged a knowing look. Two days ago had been the café day. There was their answer. They also all knew, right then, that they were _going_ to get Zach to call this girl. After all, they had never met someone who could turn him pink like that.

So, when Jason got a (somewhat devious) idea, he followed it through, pointedly asking, "Zach, does it occur to you that, after two days and no call, this girl may have forgotten you?"

"_Forgotten!?"_ Zach near shot upright on the bed, his voice rising at least an octave. He had been so preoccupied with the thought of her for the past few days that it hadn't even crossed his thoughts that _she_ might not even _remember_ him.

That thought kind of hurt. A little. Just a tiny sting, which felt a lot like rejection.

As the guys turned to leave the room, Nick grinned and said, "However, there's always a chance that she hasn't. But if you put off this calling thing for much longer, you may not be so lucky."

Panicked, Zach was already reaching for the phone.

***

Ami was out of peppermints.

She usually kept them in her desk drawer (along with other things, like a dictionary, her appointments book and a boatload or so of pencils), where they were easy to get at whenever she got the urge to eat one.

Three days ago, her peppermint cravings had come about twice a week.

Lately, however, they had been constant.

In fact, over the past two days, Ami had barely gone an hour without popping one of the small red-and-white candies into her mouth, to the point of keeping a stash in her purse as well as her desk drawer.

And now, _oh the agony_, she was out of them.

If she were being completely honest with herself, she would admit that it wasn't so much the flavor that she couldn't stand to be without, but the delicious insanity that always came with it.

And she _was_ certainly insane. After all, it was absolutely crazy behavior to be haunted by _eyes_. Green eyes, to be precise. Clever, bright green eyes that came with crinkly pulled-back blonde hair and the smell, the glorious, miraculous smell of _peppermint_.

When she had first noticed that peppermints elicited such thoughts, she had been determined to stop eating them, deciding that it was simply not healthy to constantly think of a guy whose name she didn't even know. She had truly tried to quit, but she seemed to be totally addicted to the peppermints. So, when she had finished them off, she had come to the decision not to buy more, thinking that she could force herself not to eat them and, therefore, force herself not to think of him.

Her master plan had backfired, because she still found herself thinking of him. However, without the dreamy inducement of peppermints, her thoughts were far harsher and more realistic.

For instance, she thought that, if they ever met again, he wouldn't possibly be nearly as interested in her as she was in him. He couldn't. After all, from her memory of the moments at the café, he had seemed brazen and bold and not nervous at all, and all he liked about her was her perfume. (Ami, like every human being, had relatively selective memory when she was upset, or else she would have remembered that he had _not_, in fact, been "brazen and bold and not nervous at all," and had been stumbling over his words every bit as much as she had been over hers. As it was, this did not occur to her.)

Anyway, if his level of attractiveness was anything to go on, he was probably very experienced at relationships and—she blushed at the thought—other things; so why would he go for clearly shy, inexperienced, mousy little Ami Mizuno? He wouldn't, that's why.

Furthermore, none of this speculation mattered in the least, because she would never see him again. In fact, she was pretty sure he had—

"Ami! The phone's for you. It's a male!"

—forgotten all about her and the—

Wait.

_What?_

And, more to the point: _Who?_

***

**Ten Minutes Earlier**

_Ring Ring_

"La dee da dee dum dee da dee dum..."

_Ring Ring_

"...dee da dee la dee da..."

_Ring Ring_

"…dum dee da…"

_Ring Ring_

"All _right_ already!" Lita Kino cried, interrupted from her cooking-while-nonsensically-singing (which, to the causal observer, would probably have been a good thing, because she was woefully off key).

Putting down her wooden stirring spoon, Lita picked up the kitchen phone, cradling it between her shoulder and her ear as she began to stir the mixture in her bowl yet again.

"Hello?" She asked.

The voice on the other side of the line sounded definitively masculine, "Uh, hi. Who would I be speaking to?"

"Lita Kino—why?"

"Could I please speak to Ami Mizuno?"

Lita's eyebrows jumped up on her forehead, and she once again put down her spoon in order to give the man her full attention. This was _Ami_ they were talking about, not Mina. It seemed irrational that a random guy Lita had never heard of would be calling her blue-haired friend. Therefore, she asked what seemed to her to be the next logical question.

"Does Ami know you?"

It should have been an easy question. For some reason, it wasn't.

"Well, you see…we met…but…I think…she doesn't…I don't…we haven't...but I…"

"Let's see if this question's any simpler: What do you want with Ami?"

The young man seemed to be uncertain of that, too. In fact, he was giving Lita (who liked things to be solid, concrete, and make sense) an altogether bad impression of his intentions, which prompted her to go on the defensive:

"If you expect us to just sit back and let some creeper hurt our Ami, you've got another thing coming. And I swear, if you—"

"Who's on the phone, Lita?" Mina had entered the kitchen while Lita had been busy with her tirade.

Lita cut her rant short, glancing at Mina and replying, "Some random guy who wants to talk to Ami. He doesn't seem to be sure that she even knows him, though."

Instead of the outraged look that Lita had expected, Mina just looked devious, and, flicking a strand of long blonde hair over her shoulder with a well-manicured finger, imperiously demanded the phone.

Her voice was disgustingly sweet, "I'm terribly sorry about my dear friend here. She's just a bit overprotective. Now, if you would be so kind as to tell me your name?"

"Zachary Tanzan, but I—"

"Shush. Now, you don't happen to be that lovely young man who Ami met at the Blue Moon Café, are you?"

"Well, yes, say, are you—"

Lita was fed up with this confusing conversation, "Mina, if you don't tell me what is going on right this instant…"

"What was your drink?" Mina asked into the phone.

Serena now entered the kitchen dramatically, whining rather loudly about how Rei had kicked her out of her own bedroom, and the world is so unfair, and why is everyone out to get her, and…

From the other side of the phone: "Peppermint tea, and if you would only…"

Mina just smiled and, covering the mouthpiece of the phone, looked up.

Everyone went silent.

"Serena, tell Ami that there's a guy on the phone for her."

Serena looked at first surprised, then elated. She skipped out of the kitchen, right up to the (closed) door of the room that Ami, Rei and Lita shared.

"Ami! The phone's for you. It's a male!"

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: So there's part one. Part 2 will be coming soon. By the way: if you looked at this within the first few hours of its being published, you may have noticed that it was longer. I decided to stop it at a different point, so as to make the parts more even. So, if you read the part that was up before, you officially have a sneak peak (I rather long one, I daresay) at the next chapter. For the rest of you, you'll just have to wait.

Also, I humbly implore you to review. The more reviews I get, the sooner I'll put up part 2 (nothing like a bribe, huh?)!

Make an author happy!

I remain,

~FB~


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: see Part 1.

A/N: Happy New Year! In honor of the quickly-approaching year 2009, here's part two of my (fabulous, if I do say so myself) story, _Diaphanous_.

I'd like to reiterate what I said at the end of part 1 (and, to make it easier on myself, I'm just copying and pasting it): If you looked at this (Part 1) within the first few hours of its being published, you may have noticed that it was longer. I decided to stop it at a different point, so as to make the parts more even. So, if you read the part that was up before, you officially have a sneak peak (I rather long one, I daresay) of the coming chapter. Feel free to just skip down to the part you haven't read.

Now, on with the story! (I kind of like this part better, anyway. More AmiZoi interaction)

***

"I got it!" Ami called back as she turned the phone in her room on (only after closing and locking the door, fully aware of how nosey her flatmates were).

She then held the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, I'm Z—"

"Hold on a minute." Ami's baffled tone then changed to a rather no-nonsense one, "Mina. Get off the phone."

For a moment, there was complete silence.

"_Mina_!"

"Oh, alright, alright." The perky blonde grumbled as she clicked off her phone extension.

Ami, then turned to other matters, "Anyway, if you don't mind my asking, who are you?"

"I'm Zachary Tanzan, and I—"

"I've never met you." Ami was confused.

"Yes you have." _Very_ confused. This guy was starting to sound like a sta—"And I'm not a stalker, I promise." She wasn't quite certain if she believed him.

"Then why don't I remember it?" A pause. "Please tell me I wasn't drunk." It didn't happen often, but…

"No, no," came the voice on the other end of the line, which Ami now noticed was a very pleasant sounding tenor, "at least, I don't think you were." He seemed to think a moment, before reaffirming, "No, you most certainly were not drunk."

"Alright then." Ami was feeling more and confused as this conversation went on. So, she did what she always did when completely confused—tried to dig up all the facts she could. "Would you mind er…jogging my memory with a brief, um, description, of the incident?"

"Oh, well, yeah!" Zachary replied, "It was about two days ago, at the Blue Moon Café, and you were wearing this chocolate perfume, and I—"

Ami figured it out, "Oh! That was _you_!" Could this possibly be the peppermint guy? It couldn't very well be anyone else, it seemed.

"Yeah, it was." Ami tried to force the goofy grin off of her face. It wasn't working. Here was the man she had been mentally occupied with for the past three days, _calling_ her! That _had_ to mean _some_—

Just then, Ami's elation was dampened by the logical inconsistencies that made themselves known, "…How did you get my number? _How do you know my name_?"

There was a jumble of noise on the phone, as Ami began a panicked rant about how she did _not_ want to encourage some stalker and he had _better_ not come near her because she had friends who would kick his _ass _(all the while thinking, _why am I attracted to all the weirdoes_), and Zach began trying to shout over her that he was _not_ a stalker and that there really was a logical, _non-stalkerish_ explanation for all of this.

Somehow, through all the pandemonium, Zach managed to get Ami to quiet down, and then stutter out some semblance of a coherent story. He explained (rather haltingly) about the blonde girl who left the phone number and name in his hand, and about the way that he had heard her friends calling out the name written on the paper, so he had identified it as hers.

***

Zach waited for the inevitable accusation of "liar". After all, once he said it aloud, it did seem to be a rather unlikely story.

Instead, he got a dry chuckle in response, as Ami said, "Yes, that definitely sounds like Mina."

Good, she didn't think he was a stalker. Zach relaxed (he hadn't realized he had been tensed up) and sighed.

Then, he realized just how desperate he seemed, calling random women who he hadn't even met properly. So he attempted to remedy the situation. You know, make the whole thing sound cool and nonchalant.

"Anyway, I wasn't doing much….and I, well, I had this paper…with your name…and this number…so…" He trailed off, wondering why nothing ever came out of his mouth the way it sounded in his head around this girl.

Awkward pause ensued.

"So…" she picked up the thread of conversation, "…you decided to call."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Another such awkward pause blanked the conversation.

Finally, Ami broke the silence, asking candidly, "Why did you even bother? Wouldn't it have been simpler to just let things lie—not that I'm unhappy you called, but, well…why?"

Zachary paused for a moment (not expecting so blunt a question) before asking, "Honestly?"

"Yes. Honestly."

"Well, to be truthful…you see, when we were at the café I found you to be…fascinating. Enthralling…"

He mentally pictured the way she'd looked when he'd first really noticed her: oddly blue hair, petite figure, plain features...

"…stunning, captivating, intriguing…"

…and those oh-so-intelligent blue eyes, the memory of which suddenly made him want very much to impress her with his intellect. He cast about his mind for a word that would really show off his impressive vocabulary...

"…diaphanous!" he brought his descriptive words kick to a close on that triumphant note, waiting for her breathless, flattered, awed reaction.

He waited.

And waited.

Until finally…

…"Do you actually know what that word means?"

***

Ami stared at the phone, incredulous. _Diaphanous? _That didn't sound quite right.

…"Do you actually know what that word means?"

The answer came hesitantly, nervously: "Well, yes…At least, I think I do."

"I don't think it means what you think it means."

"Ah."

There was silence. Then…

"What does it mean then?"

There was another pause, this one due to Ami's need to pull herself together and figure out precisely how to define the word. (Contrary to her friends' oft-repeated jokes, she was _not _a walking dictionary, particularly when nervous. And this young man was making her _very_ nervous.)

The silence apparently made Zach nervous, too, because he again broke the silence, asking, "Is it rude?"

"No, no, no. It's not rude. Just a little…not applicable in the situation."

Ami blushed as she realized precisely what the situation was: a (very attractive) young man was extolling her virtues with, albeit, terrible word choice and a rapturous tone of voice. Ami did not usually curse, however, all she could think at the moment was a very matter-of–fact _shit_.

He was still waiting for a definition, though, and she felt compelled to oblige him.

"It's kind of transparent, only not really. Translucent might be a better word. Insubstantial, maybe? I'm not quite sure…" This guy very much seemed to impede her usual articulacy.

"Mind giving me an example?"

"Oh sure! Just let me think…" Ami trailed off, doing the aforementioned thinking. However, she seemed to have come to a dead end. It is a curse of the human mind that it will often be the case that, once it becomes pressingly necessary to think of something that would normally be quite mentally accessible, it is impossible to find. Therefore, where Ami could, at any other point, have thought of a dragonfly's wing, or a bride's veil, at this point they simply would not come to mind (she would later, long after she had hung up the phone, kick herself as the too-obvious examples poured into her head).

Yet, as the need to reply pressed heavily upon the young woman, all she could think of was those stupid little silk nighties that Mina and Serena had been making her try on at Victoria's Secret, and how the two girls had looked at her so oddly when she used the aforementioned word to describe them.

"Still thinking?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay."

Ami knew that she _had_ to answer, or risk Zachary getting bored and disinterested and realizing that she was not worth his time, anyway. She was panicked, remembering her previous thoughts about his experiences with women, and that he would realize just how boring she was in a moment if she didn't _say_ something, and that she only really had one thing that she _could_ say, and she really did _not_ want to look stupid. So, she spoke:

(It is prudent, in this situation, to remember that Ami's panic was not unique to herself, and is, in fact, probably the most normal response among rather inexperienced young women to the current situation. It is therefore quite right to be proud of Ami, because it took quite a lot of courage to do what she did now instead of hanging up the phone.)

"Well…the only thing I can think of is…er…well…a negligee, I suppose"

There was a pause—oh, how the girl dreaded that pause!—before…

"…I hate to sound like an idiot, but hey, I figure better now than later."

"What do you mean?" Ami asked.

"What's a negligee?" then, quickly, as though desperate to prove that he was not _entirely_ ignorant, "Does it have any relation to the work 'negligence'?"

Ami nearly choked on her shock, coughing and causing Zach to sound rather worried. Ami took no heed of his repeated "are you okay?"s, thinking that maybe he was not so experienced as she had thought.

Still coughing a bit, she managed to choke out, "No. No, it has no relation that I know of to 'negligence'."

"Oh. Then what does it mean?"

Oh dear. This, Ami knew, was going to be painful.

"Well, it's a, err, little…dressing gown? I suppose? And it's…well, diaphanous. Translucent? Umm…the word flimsy comes to mind…and…um…revealing? At least…um…"

Ami was feeling undeniably awkward, but she was at least thankful for one thing: that Zach couldn't see her. Because, she knew, her blood had just made a mass migration to her cheeks. She was blushing. Violently.

***

Unbeknownst to Ami, Zach was blushing, too. Quite a bit, actually. The explanation for this was that he was trying very, _very_ hard not to picture Ami in one of the confections she was so haphazardly describing. He was failing rather miserably, and the scent of the chocolate sitting by his bed (which was now oddly overpowering) wasn't helping one single bit.

Finally, with the knowledge that it was going to take an immense amount of willpower to repress the image that was forming in his head, Zach made a deal with himself: he would _not_ fanaticize about her until he had at _least_ gotten her out on _one_ date.

In the interest of his poor, strained mind and quickly diminishing willpower, Zach then decided that he should really get her out on said date _before_ he went insane.

By the time Zachary had come to this conclusion, Ami had seen fit to change the subject, by again asking Zach why he called (more specifically, this time. And not in so many words. In fact, the way she said it made it sound like a much politer, subtler way of saying, "Not that I'm not enjoying this conversation, but can you please get to the point?)

Thinking only that asking her out was becoming a necessity, Zach gathered his courage and replied without preliminaries, "I'd like to….say…ask…that…you know…if it's okay with you, of course…but…about…maybe…you and…I…go…somewhere?"

_ShitDammitBlastedHell_.

That did _not_ work.

And she was not saying anything.

_Why wasn't she saying anything_.

Having been given the time to pull himself together, Zach restated his question (a bit more coherently), "That is, I was wondering if you would like to go out with me somewhere?"

Silence.

"Maybe Friday night?"

More silence.

And silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence Silence SilenceSilenceSilence.

She wasn't, he then realized, going to reply.

And, as he though that, that little sting of rejection he had felt earlier came back as an sharp, unyielding, near-unbearable pang.

He admitted defeat. She was too nice to say no, so she would just say nothing.

"Alright. I can take a hint. I won't call again. You don't have to worry about any harassment, and you don't have to say anything. In fact, I don't want you to—"

The interruption came in the form of a beep, notifying him of a call on the other line. He finished up his "speech".

"I'm sorry, Ami. Goodbye." She was still silent.

Sadly, he clicked the "flash" button on the phone, and morosely muttered, "Hello, Zachary speaki—"

"So sorry I lost you, see, the battery on the phone in my room went out—it does that a lot because Serena and Darien keep having phone-a-thons on it—and so I had to use the one in the kitchen, and I realized that I didn't know your number, and I was about to give up, but Rei reminded me that I could use the caller ID memory to find it out, so I did. And now I'm back." Ami's voice finally slowed down, having told the entire slowly in only one or two breaths. She sheepishly concluded, "Sorry again."

Zachary didn't know who these "Serena," "Darien" and "Rei" people were, but he didn't really care, because he had realized as she was speaking that her silence had _not_ been because she was too nice to turn him down, but because she justwasn'tthere. He was grinning wildly now as he was struck by the fact that he _still had a chance_.

(He had also noticed that his encounters with her seemed to be characterized by such awkward misunderstandings, which he thought very odd and probably karma's way of punishing him for everything he had ever done badly in his life.)

He asked her, "Where were we when I lost you?"

She replied "You were going to tell me precisely why you called."

So, all nervousness forgotten and caution lost in his elation, Zachary asked the question he desperately wanted to answer.

"I called to ask you, Ami, if you wanted to join me at the Blue Moon Café this Friday night. Maybe."

There. That was eloquent enough.

He awaited her reply.

***

Ami couldn't believe her ears. She had to be dreaming. Things like this (attractive young men she barely knew getting her phone number and asking her out on dates) didn't happen to _her_. They happened to other people.

However, since the phone was very real feeling beneath her ear and her shin was still aching from where she hit it during her rush to the kitchen to get the phone (which she had taken with her back to her previous place on her bed), she surmised that she must be awake.

Absently, she opened her desk drawer, and, finding her agenda book, saw that the Friday night slot said, "shopping with the girls" in her small, neat handwriting.

In less than an instant (not nearly long enough for Zach to start worrying), Ami went over her options:

Now, based on their enthusiasm for her love life (or, up until this point, lack thereof), Ami was certain that her friends would not mind her missing their shopping date. On the other hand, if she wanted to say _no_ to Zach's offer, it would make a great—and true—excuse. After all, he could be a stalker, despite his vehement denial of that accusation. Maybe it _would _be better if she said no.

(It must here be understood that Ami was naturally a shy sort of girl, and it was not in her personality to take risks and put herself out there.)

Afraid that her silence would give Zach the wrong idea (despite the fact that she still didn't know what the _right_ idea was), Ami muttered into the phone, "Could you give me a moment?" Then, not waiting for a reply (which was affirmative), pulled the phone from her ear and held it to her chest.

Sighing (and no closer to her answer) she looked at the ceiling.

"Whoever's up there, if there was ever a time to start listening to me, now'd be it. Because I'm having quite a bit of trouble with this decision, and aren't you supposed to guide people, or something? Anyway, I know I don't pay much attention to you in general, but if you're up there, and you're listening, I was wondering if you would mind giving me, you know, a sign, or something?"

She paused for moment, waiting for something miraculous to happen. Like, say, an angel to come down and bop her on the head, proclaiming the correct answer. Or a mouse to show up (this was impossible, she knew, as Lita would not let any mouse within a hundred feet of the apartment, but Ami _had_ seen "Cinderella" when she was young, putting certain notions about the nature of mice and helpfulness into her subconscious), and write the answer on her bed in cheese crumbs.

And so, she waited.

Nothing happened.

"Or not, of course." She again addressed the ceiling before biting back a baffled sigh.

She leaned over, slowly replacing the now-closed agenda book into the drawer. As she put it away, her fingers brushed what was unmistakably a piece of…plastic wrap?

Dropping the book, she grabbed at the plastic, raising it to her eye level and coming face-to-face with a piece of candy.

A peppermint, to be precise. A peppermint from her supposedly-completely-gone stash.

Ami stared at the peppermint for a long moment.

She looked up at the ceiling…

…then down at the phone…

..and back to the peppermint.

She quickly drew the phone back up to her ear.

"What time?"

**End**

***

Concluding A/N: There you go; the end of _Diaphanous_, Part 2 of the _Awkward_ series. I intend on writing a third oneshot (which may or may not turn out to actually be a _one_shot. Remember, this one was supposed to be a oneshot, too). I'm thinking that it will be about the date.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. I certainly had fun writing it.

And what kind of a fanfiction author would I be if, at the end, I did not throw in the customary: Review! Review! Review!

(I'd really like it if you did, though.)

Until next time,

~FB~


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